


Tristan and His Bird:  The Ultimate Bromance (Don't Deny It)

by PinkToby



Category: Hannibal (TV), King Arthur (2004)
Genre: Brotp, Other, Pre-Tristahad, Tristan and the bird are bff's, basically they sit around and bitch, crack!fic, hair-braiding
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-11-15
Updated: 2013-11-15
Packaged: 2018-01-01 14:54:34
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 935
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1045239
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/PinkToby/pseuds/PinkToby
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Tristan bitches about everything and his bird gives him relationship advice.</p><p>(It's about as dumb as it sounds...)</p>
            </blockquote>





	Tristan and His Bird:  The Ultimate Bromance (Don't Deny It)

**Author's Note:**

> tristan is perf  
> OH MY GOD THAT BIRD I FUCKING LOVE THAT BIRD  
> they have the best relationship in the entire movie imho

Tristan/Wilana BroTP

 

“I swear to whatever god these dickweeds follow,” Tristan huffs, tearing into a hunk of half-stale bread with his teeth, “I’m gonna kick Arthur’s ass all the way back to Hadrian’s Wall.” 

They had been on the road for two weeks, stopping only when absolutely necessary, and it was beginning to take a toll on the knights.  Tristan refuses to complain—after all, he has an image to uphold.

 _Dammit, Tristan, hold still!_ Wilana flaps her wings in annoyance as she begins re-braiding his tangled hair.  She insists upon it, because all the _cool knights_ do their hair that way.  

“I’m just pissed as hell, though.  Like, doesn’t he piss you off, too?”

 _While Arthur can be a complete cunt-munch, you have to give him credit for doing what he thinks is right.  Besides,_ she tugs on his hair with surprising force, earning an angered grunt from her keeper, _he’s been putting up with you for fifteen years.  That’s enough to drive anyone absolutely insane._

“Ugh, whatever.  You’re no walk in the park, either.”

_At least I’m not a whiny little bitch._

“Would a whiny little bitch have these sick tats on their face and still look fuckable as hell?”  He gestures towards each tattooed cheek with a smirk.  “I don’t fucking think so.”

_Fuckable?  You haven’t gotten any in like a bajillion years._

“Don’t remind me.”  He bites down again on his bit of bread, chewing with at least three flavors of frustration.

_Well, why don’t you make a move on somebody?  You know, wash some of the blood off your face and look like a human being for once.  I could weave some flowers in your hair if you wanted…_

“That is like 500% out of the question.”  He gulps down the last of his food and reaches for a half-filled bottle of cheap wine.  “And, besides, who would I go for, anyways?”

_Dagonet is out of the question.  He’s a swell guy, but friends don’t let friends get freaky with Dagonet._

“True that.  Gawain, maybe?”

_Nah, bro, it doesn’t feel canonically possible…_

“Yeah.  Our ship name would be, what?  Tristwain?  Gawan?”

_Both are equally lame._

“I know, right?”  He takes a long swig and lets the liquid roll across his tongue for a moment. 

_You know, if you ever wanted to put the moves on Galahad, I’d totally be your **wingman**._

“You shut the fuck up right now.”

_Come on, I’m a real **feather** in your cap, Tristy._

“Fuck you, that’s not my name.”

_You wanna give him a kiss, don’t you?  Even if it’s just a little **peck**_ **?**

“I will murder you—“

_Oh, come on, man!  Empty threats are **for the birds.**_

“Seriously, did you just go there?”

_Look, buddy, I was totally for real about the whole ‘wingman’ thing.  You should totally go for him._

“Yeah, well, what if he…you know…doesn’t like me back?”

_A little Wilanaie told me…_

“OH MY—“

 _No, dude, I’m not kidding.  There was this nightingale I was chatting up the other day…oh, man, Tristy, she was a total BABE_ , _like I’m talkin’ one hella fine beak and tail-feathers that won’t quit, OH LAWDY—_

“Alright, she was hot, I get it.  Now what did she say about Galahad?”

_Oh, right.  She said that she overheard him jerkin’ it one night and she swears he was panting your name and, yeah…_

“No shit…”

_I shit you not.  He want you…he want you **bad** , yo.  _

“Can’t say I’m not interested in him…”

 _Damn right you can’t.  He’s a total cutie pie.  He’s got major baby-face under all that scruff, too._    

“I suppose he has a nice voice…”

_You and I both know you’ve been checkin’ out his blinding white-boy legs, too._

“What, I…uh…no I haven’t?”

_You’re a real shit liar, Tristy.  The man runs around all day without any freakin’ pants and you mean to tell me that you don’t check out his sweet milky thighs?_

Tristan blushes and grumbles into his wine, and Wilana is ecstatic.

 _I knew it, I fucking **knew** it!  You’ve been ogling dat ass all week.  _ She flits over and perches atop his knee, and he chuckles in response.

“Was it that obvious?”

_Totally.  Now, I suggest you get under that boy’s tunic before we get to the mountains—shit’s gon’ get mega cold up there._

“Preach.”  Tristan lifts the bottle up to his lips and downs the last of its contents.  “Say, Wilana, I’ve got a question for you.”

_Oh, great.  What the hell do you want now?_

“Well, we only have a limited supply of food, right?”

_I mean, I guess.  I kind of go off and eat whatever, but I suppose you basic bitches only have what you can carry._

“Say we run out of food.  Who do you think I should eat first?”

_…Are you implying cannibalism, Tristan?_

“I’d go for Bors, but I’m pretty sure he’d kick my ass.”

_Tristan, what the actual fuck are you talking about man?_

“I’m talking about my design, man.  U feel me?”

_…Your design?  What the hell does that mean?_

“I don’t know, I feel like it’ll be relevant in another thousand years or so.  And you know what else?  Hannibal is a pretty rad name…”

_Screw you, man, this is too weird for me.  I’m out._

And with that, Wilana flew away to do birdy things in the dead of night, and Tristan dreamt of a man named Will Graham (who resembled Galahad immensely), three-piece suits, and eating the internal organs of a million rude men.

It was a very good dream.

**Author's Note:**

> well there's like 5-10 minutes of your life you'll never get back)


End file.
